A Missing Dress
by Pokemon67
Summary: Summary: Gwen tries to figure out what happened to one of Morgana's dresses after the incident with the Druid girl.
1. Chapter 1

**Me: I got this idea while watching heartbreaking music videos of Freya and Merlin. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the show that shattered my soul,** _ **Merlin.**_

 _~Pokemon67 wishes to apologize for any and all grammatical errors, especially of the misspelling of Gwen's full name. She tried, but spell check kept telling her she was wrong~_

''The feast takes place tomorrow, and all the nobles are arriving later today.''

Morgana roller her eyes. ''I hate this time of year,'' she grumbled. ''I love a good feast, but to have so many at once? Why can't we spread them apart, savor the joy of a party?'' She got up from her seat at the table and went over to her wardrobe.

Arthur frowned at her from his seat. ''What are you doing?''

''I have to pick out my outfit.''

''What, now?''

''No, I'll wait until the last second like you do.''

''And yet I always look perfectly handsome.''

''Except that one time where you forgot your belt and shirt.''

''Now hang on, I admit I forgot my belt, but I _was_ wearing a shirt!''

''That's right! I forgot, silly me. How could I forget that hideous, bright green shirt that the Duchess of Lares gave you?'' Arthur was about to retort when Morgana sighed as she looked though her closet. ''Gwen? Could you come here please?''

Gwen, trying not to laugh as she listened to the sibling banter, put down her mending and walked across the room to where her mistress was standing in front of her wardrobe. ''Gwen, I've been meaning to ask you if you've seen that purple dress of mine. It's been missing for ages and it would complement Arthur's blue nightshirt should he chose to show up in that

tomorrow _perfectly_.''

Gwen smiled at the comment as she began shuffling thought the dresses. ''I don't recall seeing it in the washing of late…'' she mused as she searched. ''Did it fall off the hanger?'' Gwen began to search the bottom of the wardrobe.

Arthur watched the girls, not making any move to help. Had it just been Gwen searching, he might've, but because of Morgana's comments, he was content to ignore them.

''Oh, I miss that dress,'' Morgana sighed as Gwen came up empty handed. ''Are you sure it didn't get lost in the washing?''

''I distinctly remember hanging it up a few weeks back,'' Gwen replied. ''I haven't seen you wear it since.''

Morgana closed the wardrobe. ''Thank you, Gwen. Keep an eye out for, okay?'' Gwen nodded and went back to her mending.

Morgana sat back down again. ''Maybe one of the maids took it,'' she mused.

''Why would they?'' Arthur finally inquired. ''Why would one of the maids steal a dress?''

''Because it was a very pretty dress,'' Morgana replied.

''You have a thousand 'pretty' dresses,'' Arthur countered.

''I know that,'' Morgana said patronizingly.

''Then why are you getting so worked up?''

''I'm not!''

''You just had Gwenivere tear apart that cupboard for it!''

Morgana turned in her chair towards her servant. ''Gwen,'' she called, ''Did I 'make you tear apart' the wardrobe or did I simply ask if you had seen my dress?''

''I believe it was the latter, my lady,''Gwen replied respectfully. She tried to bite back a laugh as she watched Arthur roll his eyes'. Goodness, she loved their banter.

Morgana turned back to Arthur pointedly. ''See?''

''Oh, sure. You think she's going to risk her job by siding with me?'' Gwen turned her laugh into a cough as Morgana gave Arthur a death glare. ''What is so special about this dress?''

''Why do you want know?''

''Since it had such an impact on your life, perhaps we should hold a ceremony for it?''

Morgana picked up an apple and held it threateningly above her head. ''I will throw this at you.''

Arthur laughed. ''No seriously, why do you need this dress?''

''For the last time, I don't _need_ this dress, just as you don't _need_ many pairs of boots. But if one pair were to go missing, you'd look for it, wouldn't you?''

''Fine,'' Arthur consented, leaning back in his chair. ''What does this unimportant, but mysteriously vanishing dress look like?''

''Why should I tell you?''

''Because it gives me an excuse to stay here and not do the work father assigned me.'' Morgana raised her apple again. ''Plus,'' Arthur added to save himself. ''Maybe I'll have seen the maids washing it and that can further clarify the last time it was sighted.''

Morgana, still holding her ammunition, gave in. ''It was a dark blue,'' she said. ''With lacy sleeves, and a little bit of red round the trim. The skirt also had a purple tinge to it.'' She trailed off, trying to think of another detail. She didn't really care about the dress— she had a lot. If it turned out one of the maids did take it, that was fine (as long as they were told that if they really needed a new dress, they can ask instead of steal).

Gwen looked up from her mending, expecting Arthur to give another sarcastic reply in order to continue avoiding his work. But instead the prince had a thoughtful expression on his face. Finally, he shrugged and got up from the table. ''Nope, doesn't ring any bells,'' he said. He then walked to the door.

''Leaving finally?'' Morgana asked. She took a bite of her apple.

''Can't delay forever I'm afraid,'' Arthur nodded solemnly. ''I must pick out that outfit.'' It was only because he had been expecting it that Arthur was able to doge the half eaten apple that was thrown across the room at his head.

Gwen put down her mending, determined to follow Arthur: he was hiding something, she saw it his face. ''If you'll excuse me, my lady,'' She too went to the door.

''Gwen?'' Morgana asked.

''Yes?''

''When you get a chance, and when Merlin has an alibi, hide a pair of Arthur's boots for me?''

Gwen smiled at the idea. Oh, the argument that would ensue. ''As you wish, my lady.''

Gwen was quick to catch up to Arthur. He had gone to his room, but he wasn't working. He was just sitting at his desk, thinking. ''My lord?''

Arthur looked up. ''Ah, Gwenivere. Sorry, does Morgana want to throw a pear at me too?''

''Not today I think,'' Gwen closed the door behind her. ''I was wondering if there was something wrong.''

''Wrong?''

''Well, it's just that— and forgive me, if I'm mistaken— I just thought that when Morgana was describing her dress, you seemed as if you had thought of something.''

Arthur looked uncomfortable, a sure sign that Gwen was right. Finally, he sighed. ''If I tell you, promise me you won't say anything.''

''Of course, my lord.''

''It's only that no harm has come of it, and though it is strange and, well, just plain _weird,_ and nasty rumors could spread so I don't think—''

''Arthur!'' Gwen interrupted his rambling. ''Just say it.''

Arthur sighed deeply. ''Merlin took the dress.''

Gwen frowned. ''Why?''

''He said he was checking for moths.''

''…but…?''

Arthur looked extremely uncomfortable. ''Remember, you can't say anything!''

''I won't!''

''Merlin took it to- to try it on.''

Gwen couldn't remember when she last laughed so hard.

Arthur's face was a look of such seriousness, and the idea of Merlin rifling though Morgana's things was so ludicrous that Gwen couldn't have hidden her laughter even if she had been forewarned.

She tried to control herself; after all, she was in front of the Future King of Camelot. But as soon as she saw his face she started laughing all over again.

A few more minutes went by, with Gwen laughing all the while. ''Are you quite done?'' Arthur asked irritably.

Gwen bit her lip. ''I don't think I will ever be done laughing about this,'' she said shakily. She tried to keep a straight face, but it was impossible.

''It's not funny.''

''Your right, Arthur, it is _down right hilarious,''_ Gwen covered her mouth with her hand. ''I'm sorry, but, you know, the cook was missing an apron a while ago, do you think Merlin took that too?'' She began laughing all over again. ''I- I have some shoes that maybe he'd like. Do you think I should offer?''

Arthur got up from his seat, face red with embarrassment. ''I think you have chores to do, don't you?''

''Nothing that can't wait,'' Gwen replied. Her sides ached from laughing.

''I think Morgana called you.''

''Oh, come on, Arthur,'' Gwen said, trying to be serious again. ''You really think Merlin took Morgana's dress to use?''

''I saw him take it out of the wardrobe and inspect it. What else could he have been doing with it?''

''Maybe checking for moths like he said?''

''Do you or Morgana recall asking him to do so?''

''No.''

''Then what other option is there?''

''Something other than cross dressing!''

''You don't know that.''

''I know Merlin.''

''What? You think you know he's not the kinda of man to do that?''

''Of course not.''

''How?''

''His sense of style would have to be better. That blue dress would make him look to gangly. Now, Morgana has this red dress— _that_ would look good on Merlin.''

''Out.''

''She also has these pins to go with it. Oh, he'd look gorgeous!''

''I don't want to speak with you for a very long time.''

''Oh, alright I'm leaving,'' Gwen kept grinning as she went to the door. ''Thank you for such a marvelous time. Oh, wait, one last thing.''

''What?'' Arthur asked angrily, expecting another sarcastic comment.

''When was this?''

Arthur paused, thinking. ''About, two weeks ago?''

Gwen nodded. ''Thank you!''

….

Gwen finally left Arthur's chambers, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. So, Merlin was the one last seen with the dress? Arthur had had a point when he said neither she nor Morgana had asked him to check for moths, nor had anyone mentioned if there were moths in the castle.

Two weeks _._ That's how long ago. _Was it a coincidence….?_

Gwen had noticed a change in Merlin lately. He seemed withdrawn, his usual cheerful self dimmed, and his laughter and jokes forced. This changed started about two weeks ago. But how could that be connected to Morgana's dress?

Gwen went on her way toward the armory. When Arthur had come in to talk to Morgana, he had just come from training. So Merlin was probably cleaning up.

Sure enough, there was the servant, hanging up swords and polishing helmets. He turned his head as he heard Gwen's footsteps. A smile slid into place. ''Hi, Gwen.''

''Hi, Merlin,'' Gwen greeted. ''Do you want help?''

''No, nearly finished,'' Merlin replied. He slid the last sword into place and turned back to the helmets lined up on the bench. ''Thanks. Do you need something? You don't usually come down here.''

''Yes, actually. I need to ask you a question.''

''Yeah?''

''I was wondering if any of Morgana's things had gotten mixed up in Arthur's washing?''

Merlin thought for a minute. ''No, I don't recall seeing any of her stuff. Has Lisa mixed up the baskets again?''

Gwen shook her head. ''No. It's just that Morgana is missing something and I wondered if you had seen it.

''What is it?''

''A dress.''

Gwen was looking to catch for a cover up, so she noticed Merlin's slight pause, freezing at the mention of a dress. ''I- I don't remember seeing any—''

''It was blue, with lacy sleeves and red trim?'' Gwen pressed gently. Merlin turned his back to hide his face, placing the helmets back on their shelves. ''It's not that important,'' Gwen assured him. ''I mean, Morgana has plenty of dresses. She just wanted to make sure she hadn't misplaced it or anything.''

''Why do you think I've seen it?'' Merlin asked. His tone was a poor imitation of his usual carefree voice.

''Well, Arthur said he saw you with it,'' Gwen admitted sheepishly. ''Said you were checking for moths?''

Merlin scoffed. ''He didn't believe that,'' he said.

Gwen smiled, her mind going back to her conversation with Arthur. ''Yeah, I know,'' she said. ''He apparently jumped to conclusions.''

Merlin laughed, but it didn't sound right to Gwen ears. ''So you don't think that of me?'' He asked sarcastically.

''No. I said that dress wouldn't have complemented your figure, so it must've been for someone else.'' Merlin didn't respond. He bit his lip and continued with the helmets, his back once again to Gwen.

''So, what happened after you saw the dress?'' Gwen asked carefully after a moments silence.

Merlin sighed and kept busy with his task. ''I- I did take it,'' he admitted. ''I- I gave it to someone who needed it.''

''You could've asked, Merlin,'' Gwen said gently. ''I'm sure Morgana would've been happy to help.''

''It was short notice,'' Merlin whispered. He was tense. ''I- I have money. I can replace it-''

''That's not nessasary,'' Gwen interjected. ''Morgana just wanted to make sure she wasn't becoming careless.'' Merlin nodded. ''You know, if your friend needs more dresses, I'm sure-''

''She doesn't,'' Merlin said coldly. Then he added in a whisper, as if speaking to himself, ''She never will.''

Gwen watched as Merlin placed the last helmet on the shelf and gathered his rags. ''I have to attend to Arthur,'' he said. He walked past Gwen, but not before she saw the sadness deeply etched onto his face.

….

It was late as Gwen walked home that night. On top of her usual nightly duties, she had to help prepare for the feast tomorrow, and she had wanted to catch up on that mending she had put aside to figure out what had happened to the dress. Morgana, after five times insisting that the mending could wait, had finally snatched the work out of her maid's hands and pushed her toward the door, ordering her to go home and sleep.

Gwen pulled her shawl closer around her against the cold air. Her heels clicked against the castle wall stone. She was almost to the steps when she caught in the corner of her eye a figure sitting onto the wall, staring off into the forrest.

Gwen frowned and was about to call out, when she recognized the figure as Merlin.

She changed her direction and was soon on the wall, walking over to Merlin. She had felt guilty the whole day about angering him, and hadn't been able to shake the image of his grieving face from her mind. Maybe now she could apologize.

''Merlin?'' She asked. Her voice seemed so much smaller in the still air. She walked over to him. He didn't look at her, but kept staring off into the woods.

''She was running,'' He said quietly. ''People were after her and I offered to help.''

Gwen sat down next to him. ''The girl you gave the dress to?'' She asked gently.

Merlin nodded. ''She was innocent; she hadn't done anything at all. But they were going to kill her, so I helped her.'' He swallowed hard. ''She was in rags. I thought if I disguised her I could smuggle her out of the city and get her to safety.''

''And did you?''

Merlin bit his lip and shook his head. ''They got her,'' he whispered. ''I couldn't save her. The wound was to deep…'' He trailed off. He took a deep breath. ''I couldn't- I couldn't let her go in rags. So instead of returning the dress-''

''You buried her in it,'' Gwen finished softly.

Merlin nodded again. ''Yeah.''

''When was this?''

Merlin hesitated. ''Two weeks ago.''

Gwen thought for a minute. Two weeks. That was about when that bounty hunter had had the city torn apart for that Druid girl, who turned out to be a monster…

Merlin was watching Gwen's face— he knew she was putting the pieces together. But Gwen was not going to say what Merlin was hinting at. Not here, outside the palace. ''She was innocent,'' Merlin said again.

Gwen bit her lip and leaned her head against his shoulder. He was right; from what she had heard, the girl had been cursed. But even if she hadn't been, Uther still would've seen her dead simply for being a Druid. It was wrong. It was all so wrong. ''I know.''

Merlin seemed to relax at that. Perhaps that is why he told her, so someone other than him would know that the girl was innocent, that she hadn't deserved what she got.

''I can replace the dress-'' Merlin began to offer again.

''Oh, Merlin,'' Gwen sighed. ''No one cares about the dress.''

They sat in silence on the wall. Poor Merlin. He had been grieving for this girl in secret all this time, and pretending that he was fine. Gwen wished there was something she could do for him. But there wasn't, except to be next to him. So that's what she did. She couldn't take away his grief, but he didn't have to grieve alone. ''What was her name?''

''Freya,'' Merlin pronounced her name slowly, savoring the syllables. It occurred to Gwen that this might be the first time he had said her name aloud since it happened. ''Her name was Freya.''

 _Freya._ Gwen thought about the name. She had no face to put it to, but it was a lovely name. She wouldn't forget the name; the least the living can do for the dead is remember them.

…

''Morgana!'' Arthur called. Morgana and Gwen turned to watch their friend come up the hallway towards them.

''For the last time, Arthur, I haven't seen your boots,'' Morgana huffed in annoyance.

''No, I found this in my laundry.'' Arthur held up a yellow dress. ''I think that maid mixed the clothes up again.''

Morgana frowned at the dress. ''Do you recognize it?'' Morgana asked Gwen.

Gwen shook her head. ''No, it's not one of yours.''

''What are we all doing here?'' Merlin asked as he came down the stairs. He stared at the dress in Arthur's hands. ''Where'd you get that?''

''That's what we are wondering,'' Arthur grumbled. ''I don't know where it came from. I found it in my laundry, but it isn't Morgana's…''

Merlin snapped his fingers. ''I knew I washed it!'' He declared happily. He took the dress from Arthur. ''Thank you, Arthur, for finding it for me!''

Arthur watched aghast as his servant walked down the hall and around the corner with his dress. ''Well, there you are then,'' Morgana shrugged as she and Gwen walked past Arthur. ''Do pick your jaw up off the floor, Arthur.''

The girls kept a straight face as they walked away. But as soon as they were out of Arthur's sight, they descended into giggles and ran around the corner.

As planned, Merlin was already there, leaning on his knees to keep from falling over in his laughter. ''Did you see his face?'' he choked out.

Gwen had to lean her back against the wall to keep from falling down. ''Yes,'' she laughed. ''Oh, that was brilliant.''

Morgana put her hand on Merlin's shoulder. '' _'Thank you, Arthur, for finding it for me!'_ '' She quoted Merlin. ''Oh, that was perfect, just perfect…''

''What was?'' a voice said. A young maid came up the stairs. She frowned at the sight of the king's ward and two servants laughing in the corridor. ''What's going on?''

Merlin tried to compose himself. ''Here's your dress back, Lisa,'' he said, handing the garment over to the bewildered maid.

''What did you need it for?'' Lisa asked. ''Why couldn't you use one of your own?''

''Well, mine might be recognized and Gwen is too short,'' Morgana explained.

''Too short for what?''

''For me,'' Merlin responded. Lisa's confused expression made the three jokers descend into laughter once again.

''Nuts, the three of you are nuts…'' Lisa shook her head and continued on her way.

The three stayed in the corridor for a few minutes, trying to compose themselves. Gwen watched Merlin next to Morgana, who was trying to balance herself by leaning on the servant. His eyes, though not quite as bright as they used to be, were sparkling. And his laughter, for the first time in a long while, sounded genuine.

Gwen smiled, but not because she was thinking of Arthur. It would take time, and the events would always haunt him, but Freya could rest easy knowing that Gwen was going to make sure that Merlin would be okay.

 **Me: Morgana's and Arthur's banter was so much fun to write. Oh, Morgana… does anyone else feel so much pain when you go back and watch episodes when she was good?**

 **I hope you like this story! If you have time, please review and tell me what you think!**

 **Happy Writing!**


	2. Chapter 2

_*the following chapters had been written and were prepared to post, but delayed as doc manager was not operating. So they are meant to have been posted earlier than you are reading this. Apologies from the arthur (see what I did there?)*_

 **Me: After a review from _kyuzi4869,_ asking me to make another chapter about Arthur finding out about the dress, I responded that I didn't think I could do Arthur's point of view right. But, apparently my imagination had other idea's. So long story short, I spent my Saturday furiously writing and ended up writing +10,000 words to this story. I have separated it into parts, so you may expect chapter updates!**

 **I would like to dedicate the rest of this story to _kyuzi4869,_ whose message got me thinking. Like one should never let the Doctor talk, one should never let me think (unless you want fan fiction).**

 **So, I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the show that took my soul, said ''watch this!'' and proceeded to break it into a thousand pieces, otherwise known as _Merlin._**

 _~Pokemon67 is sorry for any and all grammatical errors. She tried, so give her an 'E' for effort please~_

Arthur was falling. Sinking, with orange flames burning around him, licking his armor and filing his nostrils with smoke. Soon the smoke was replaced with water, and the fear of suffocation was turned into fear of drowning.

'' _But I'm dead. I'm already dead…''_

He couldn't move, couldn't do anything to save himself. He was frozen, forced to face dying even though he was pretty sure he already had.

Arthur thought he had his eyes closed, unable to open them. But either he was mistaken and just blinded by the fire, or he had somehow managed to open them. Either way, he could see. And he realized he wasn't alone under the water.

The girl had her eyes closed, and her brown hair streamed out around her. She looked peaceful. Then, without any warning, she suddenly opened her eyes and, spotting Arthur, looked as if she were about to scream. The only reason she didn't was probably because she realized she was under water and to open her mouth now would result in dying for (what Arthur assumed, giving that he was in the same situation) a second time.

The girl seemed to have control over her limbs, because she started swimming up. Halfway up, she stopped to looked at Arthur, staring back down at him.

Arthur met her eyes, and there was some sort of silent standoff. The girl was studying him, and Arthur realized she was debating whether or not to save him. Possible, she believed him to be nothing but a dead body— maybe she couldn't tell that his eyes still held life in them. But there was that look of fear she had regarded him with when she first looked at him, and Arthur realized that the girl might have reason to hate him.

Being underwater as they were, this interaction only lasted a few seconds. But it might as well been years for Arthur, who was rapidly running out of air. His fate rested in the hands of a girl whose face he didn't know, but she clearly knew his.

Something won out in the girl's mental argument with herself. She kicked though the water back to Arthur, grabbing hold of him and going back up all quickly, as if she were afraid of changing her mind again. Arthur would've cried in relief if he could as she took him with her.

They broke the surface of the lake. They gasped for air, breathing in with the vigor of— well, the dead. Arthur had regained the use of his limbs, and was able to keep himself afloat. For a moment, they just stayed still in the water, silently thanking every deity they could think of for the gift of fresh air.

''Ov- over there,'' the girl gasped, pointing to the shore. Arthur nodded his understanding and took her hand in the waves so as not to lose her. She looked startled at the gesture, but she didn't pull away. They helped each other stay afloat as they swam toward the shore.

When their feet touched the land, Arthur let out a gasp of surprise and joy all in one breath. The second they were far enough from the waves to avoid being swept back out, he dropped the girl's hand and threw himself down onto the grassy land. The girl did the same. Arthur couldn't help thinking that green was certainly a beautiful color.

They let themselves have a few moments again to thank their lucky stars for getting out of the lake, for being _alive._ Arthur noticed that he had no wound— no pain that signified that he had been dead a few moments ago.

'' _Was it a few moments?''_ He thought suddenly. How long had he been dead? His pyre had been burning, right? So he couldn't have been dead long. But then Merlin should be close by still, should've seen him come back out There was magic involved here, so maybe he just felt that he wasn't dead for long. Who knows how long he was actually in that lake…

Arthur realized that the girl had sat up, and was looking at him. He struggled to sit up as well. Maybe he wasn't dead (which he would forever be eternally grateful for), but he felt very, very tired. Sleep was in the top five things he longed for right now. And by the look of exhaustion on his fellow former dead mate, she felt the same.

''Thank you,'' Arthur said. The girl still had that startled expression on her face. ''Thank you for taking the chance that I was alive-''

''I knew you were alive,'' the girl said hastily. Arthur nodded; so she really had debated whether or not to leave him to die. In the past, Arthur would've have immediately thought her an enemy. An enemy that had some compassion maybe, but an enemy all the same. But since becoming king, since hearing Merlin's confession (though, who knows how long either of these events had occurred), he had learned that there was almost always more to issues than meets the eye; there was nothing in this world that was simply black and white.

The girl must've realized how rude and unprovoked her confession was. She bit her lip and looked away. ''I'm sorry,'' she whispered. ''I- I didn't mean to-''

''It's alright,'' Arthur assured her. He smiled. ''It's been a trying day.'' The girl smiled at the comment and raised her eyes to his face again. Arthur felt this wave of unease wash over him. He knew her, something about her was ringing all sorts of bells in his mind, but he just couldn't place his finger on any of them.

Arthur pushed away the thoughts for now— there was plenty of time to worry. The girl was not very likely to want to answer any of his questions, and in his tired state, he probably wouldn't be very good at asking them. They could talk later. Arthur smiled again. Oh, what a joy to know one would have a _later._

''We should move,'' Arthur said, looking around. He and Merlin had flown that dragon here, to the Isle of the Blest. It wasn't that far to Camelot— a few days on foot. They could make it. _If Camelot is still there…_ ''Do you have any idea how long I was in the lake?''

The girl cocked her head to the side, thinking. ''Not to long, I think,'' she said quietly. ''Maybe a few days. Time is difficult to tell.''

 _Days? Only days?_ Arthur was torn between being relieved that it was only days and horrified that he had missed whole days. But that to, could be dealt with later. If the girl was right, Camelot was still there then, along with all the people he loved. _I'm coming home, Gwen. I am coming home._

''How long were you in the lake?'' Arthur ventured. ''If you were counting time, then it must've been a while.''

The girl hesitated in answering. ''I wasn't in there, exactly,'' she admitted. ''The times I were was when I was given a chance to help.'' Before Arthur could question the answer, she stood up. ''You're right: we should move.''

Arthur nodded, content to ignore the matter for the time being. He stood up, and out of habit reached for his sword. ''Oh, no.''

The girl looked confused. ''What?''

''My sword.'' Arthur looked toward the water. ''It's gone. We have no way of defending ourselves if necessary.''

The girl didn't answer. Then she suddenly walked past Arthur and into the water, up to her knees. Before Arthur could inquire what on earth she was doing, she reached into the water and pulled out Excalibur.

Arthur could only stare with his mouth hanging open as the girl walked back towards him, staring at the sword in her hands. ''Is that why you let me back?'' Arthur heard her whisper absently to herself. ''So I could give it back one last time?''

She reached Arthur and seemed to snap back to the present, shaking herself out of her stupor. ''Looking for this?'' she said.

Arthur took his sword back reverently. ''How…?'' He began, then decided against asking the question: there were so many _hows_ and _whys_ that needed to be answered that to ask another was just stupid at the moment. ''Ready?''

The girl paused before nodding, looking uncomfortable like she had before deciding to save him. Arthur felt worried about traveling with her, but she had saved his life (even if she nearly hadn't), and he wasn't going to leave her alone. Besides, there was still that nagging feeling that there was something so very familiar about her that he needed an answer to.

They walked back away from the water, but paused to look back once more. Arthur remembered once an old maid of his father's who used to tell him stories. She once said that in stories, no hero had ever got rewarded for looking back— quite the opposite. But Arthur couldn't help but look at the beautiful lake that had nearly become his burial place. The girl must've felt the same, actually probably more so, considering it had been her burial place for clearly much longer.

They stood reverently for a few minutes, memorizing the details, since neither of them would probably be able to work up the courage to come here ever again. Then, they turned around and walked into the woods, towards Camelot.

….

Being as tired as they were, Arthur and the girl didn't get far before deciding to settle for the night. The sun was going to set soon anyway, so they found a small clearing and gathered wood for a fire.

Arthur was prepared to fight with the sticks in an attempt to light the fire, but the girl had other ideas. She stared at the pile of sticks, and Arthur watched as she murmured a foreign word and her eyes flash yellow. Soon, a fire was warming the chilly night.

They leaned back against the trees, munching on some berries they had identified through their trek. Arthur watched the girl stare into the fire, her body posture stiff. She kept glancing at the sky, watching the setting sun with a worried expression.

Arthur shifted to grab more berries from their small pile. So, the girl had magic. He didn't suppose he was to surprised at that; in fact, it might turn out to be a good thing as they made their way through the woods. What was worrying is that if she had magic, then that probably contributed to why she had hesitated to help him. She no doubt recognized the son of the man who made it his mission to rid the world of magic. In all likely hood, it was the laws of Camelot that put her in that lake.

But there was something else, something else about the girl and her appearance that made Arthur sure he was missing something. He just didn't know what.

He suddenly sat up, a thought occurring to him. ''We haven't been introduced,'' he said, leaving the invitation open in case she shouldn't wish to share her name.

The girl turned away from the sky to look at Arthur. She sensed that it was a question that he wasn't going to push her to answer, and was debating what she should say. ''I know who you are,'' she said, turning away. She seemed ashamed that she had been rude again, but Arthur understood; if she had been executed by order's of Uther, then she wouldn't want to make nice with his son.

Arthur hadn't had anyone executed for using magic during his reign— at least, that had never been the sole crime. There had always been another reason. A stab of pain shot through his heart as he remembered Kara, Mordred's girl. She represented the thousands of Druids who still didn't trust him, who didn't believe any of the reasons he had tried to present that he would be different from his father. This girl shared their opinions.

 _Mordred._ Arthur shuddered and tried to erase the image of Mordred in his mind. The look of resignation on his face as he stabbed Arthur…

-The look of joy when Arthur stabbed him back.

Why did he smile? Was his love for her so great that he glad that he was going to see Kara again? Or was it that he had succeeded in avenging her death? Or was it simply the knowledge that Arthur fought him, showed him what Mordred believed to be his true colors?

Arthur pushed these thoughts aside. He didn't want to dwell on that. There were so many things to figure out, and that was something he couldn't afford to be distracted by.

The sun was nearly gone over the horizon. The girl stood up suddenly. She turned to Arthur, a look of panic on her face. ''I'll- I'll keep watch,'' she said shakily.

Arthur frowned. ''We haven't seen anyone,'' he argued. ''I don't think bandits will have bothered coming this far away from the large cities. You don't need to-''

''Yes I do!'' The girl shouted. Panic was so evident in her voice, and her eyes looked wild. Arthur began to contemplate whether or not she was quite sane. ''You have your sword?''

''Y-yes,'' Arthur said. ''It is specially mine, so I can't give it to you.''

The girl shook her head. ''No, I don't want it. Just, keep it by you. In case…'' she trailed off, and without warning spun on her heel to sit on the edge of their campsite, her back to Arthur.

Arthur leaned back again, staring at the back of the girl, not quite sure what her problem was. It was clear that she was exhausted as he was, and why she should choose to keep lookout for bandits that were not there instead of sleeping was beyond him.

Night fell over their camp. Arthur closed his eyes, and all the thoughts he had forced himself not to dwell on while walking through the woods so as to keep focused, he allowed himself the pleasure of thinking.

Gwen. He was going to see her again. The memory of her smile lingered in his mind, making a smile spread across his own face. He would get to see her again, get to _live_ with her. For years and years. When he went off to battle, he thought for sure he wasn't going to be able to, had resigned himself to it so she would prepare herself for the worst. But he had hoped. And now his wishes were coming true. He would get to go home to his Gwenivere.

But there was something else to deal with when he got home as well. Merlin. His trusted manservant had all these years been breaking the law. Been practicing and using magic. How was he going to deal with that? Would he have to kick Merlin out of Camelot? Even though he had been using magic for good?

'' _I use it for you, Arthur. Always for you.''_

How could he do that?

Arthur looked across at the girl. She no doubt ended up in that lake because of the ban against magic. So many had died because of it. Hell, _he_ had died of it because the ban was the reason Morgana raised an army against Camelot in the first place…

 _Morgana._

Arthur closed his eyes painfully. His sister. His beautiful sister, whom he grew up with and laughed with. Whom he teased and who teased him right back. Who's sword skills so out matched his that he made it his mission to be the best of the best in sword fighting just so he could out match her.

He never admitted that to her.

Morgana was gone. Dead. Gone and dead. Why? Because of magic. Not the use of it, but because of the ban on it.

How long had she known? How long had she hidden herself away, fear eating away at her about being found out? How many times did she stand in her window, watching people being hung, burned, and decapitated for the very thing she had? How many times did she imagine herself out there in their place?

When did she decide that Arthur was no different, that he would treat her the same as those people?

When had she decided that she had to lie to him every day?

When was the last time they were completely honest with each other?

Arthur didn't know. And now he never would.

Kara had had every reason to hate him. From the Druid's point of view, if the king's own ward, whom they found out was actually his own _daughter,_ felt unsafe in Camelot, then how could they ever expect to feel safe? No matter promise Arthur made, he could never erase the fear other's had had for his father.

Arthur turned on his side, his hand resting on his sword. He would figure all this out. He'd find a way. He had been given a second chance at life and he was going to make it worthwhile. Since it had been a few days, Merlin was probably back in Camelot. Why, he might've told Gwen the truth about his magic and Gwen probably already came up with a plan to make sure nothing like the war with Morgana ever happens again. That would be like her. His resourceful, brave queen, Gwenivere…

….

Arthur woke up to the sound of laughter. And crying. Laughter and crying. Who was so emotional this early in the morning?

Arthur got up and saw at the edge of camp, the girl. she was sitting on the ground where she had kept her night vigil, and she had her head thrown back in laughter and tears pouring down her cheeks. It was such a change from the glares and looks of fear she had thrown his way yesterday that Arthur was completely bewildered by it.

He approached her slowly, his hand casually on his sword (you never know with crazy people). ''What's going on?'' Arthur asked, keeping his tone light.

The girl brought her hands to her face, trying to wipe away her tears. She stood up, and her face, glistening with tears, had a huge smile on it. ''I'm alive,'' she breathed. The words sent a laugh through her again. ''I'm alive!''

Arthur nodded slowly. ''Yes,'' he said evenly. ''We established that yesterday.''

The girl shook her head wildly. Her tears and laughter, along with her wild hair and filthy dress, made her look like a mad woman. Arthur hoped the crazy euphoria coming from the girl was just the complete exhaustion from coming back from the dead and staying up all night. ''I'm alive and _human_!'' Arthur continued to stare at her. ''Human,'' she breathed again. ''Human. Always human. Not beast, not killer, just human. Always human!'' she laughed again.

Arthur was properly freaked out now. ''Okay,'' he said slowly, taking a few steps back for good measure.

The girl must've realized she was scaring him. She blushed, and nervously ran her fingers through her wild hair, taking a few deep breaths to control herself. ''Sorry.''

Arthur shrugged, but still kept his distance. ''It's fine. It's nice that you're, er, human.''

The girl laughed at his awkwardness. It was a much more controlled laugh, the joy of it not out of control like before. ''I'm sorry,'' she said again. She smiled, and walked past Arthur to where their fire had been the night before. ''Shall we get going?''

''Huh?''

''We have to go,'' the girl repeated. She brushed some dirt over the remaining embers and turned back to Arthur. ''We have to get you to Camelot.''

….

They set off through the woods again. The girl was more animated today, walking alongside Arthur instead of hesitantly trailing along behind him, looking ready to flee.

Arthur had assumed she was a Druid, and with her new found confidence as she pointed out certain paths in the trees, Arthur was certain of it. Being a Druid, she would've spent her whole life in the woods, navigating around them and hunting through them for food.

As they walked along a particular clear path, Arthur decided he was going to try and get some answers. ''Why were you so happy before?''

The girl pulled at her frayed sleeve. Her dress must've once been nice. It was blue, with some red trim. It was very un-Druid like, and judging by the way it hung off her, it was probably not her's.

''You've probably already assumed I'm a Druid,'' the girl began. She seemed more wiling to be open with him today, but talking must've made her uncomfortable. She kept her eyes on the road, sky, trees— anywhere but Arthur. ''Well, was.''

''What do you mean, was?'' Arthur asked.

''They were afraid of me,'' the girl admitted. ''You see, I was cursed.''

''How so?''

The girl looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Arthur realized that she was all to aware that he knew he should recognize her. She was now revealing her identity to him, and was scared of his reaction. ''I was cursed to kill forever. So every night, I became a monster. I hunted and killed many animals and people. In my cursed state, I couldn't control myself. I only got the memories of the people's faces as I killed them when I woke up the next morning…'' She shook her head.

Arthur stared at her. No wonder she had been so scared the previous night. She was afraid that coming back to life had meant coming back to her curse. But it hadn't. That was why she was so happy. ''Is that how you died?'' Arthur asked softly. ''You were caught?''

The girl kept her eyes on the ground. ''Someone tried to help me. He said he could smuggle me out of the city. Gave me this,'' she pointed to her dirty dress. ''Thought if he disguised me, we could slip past the guards.'' She paused for a minute. ''I couldn't let him risk everything for me. If he was caught, he would've been killed too. So I tried to escape by myself. But I failed.''

''I'm sorry,'' Arthur said. ''This happened in Camelot, didn't it?'' The girl nodded. ''I'm sorry,'' Arthur said again. ''Things are different now. I rule differently from my father.''

''I'm sure you do,'' the girl said quietly.

''Who was the man who helped you?'' Arthur asked. ''He is probably still in Camelot if you want to see him again.''

The girl stopped walking. She took a deep breath and turned on her heel, facing Arthur. The look on her face was one of determination, resignation, and fear. ''His name is Merlin.''

Arthur was completely shocked. ''Merlin!'' He said. The girl had been dead for a while, back when his father was still alive. The idea that Merlin had been so reckless as to practice magic and help a _wanted Druid monster_ under _Uther Pendragon's reign_ was astonishing. ''So, Merlin helped you?'' An image of Merlin swiping his food flashed through his mind. ''He gave you food? And gave you the dre-''

Arthur paused, his mind going back to those series of events, so long ago.

'' _Merlin! What are you doing?''_

'' _Uh, checking for moths?''_

'' _You haven't been yourself these past few days. What's wrong?''_

'' _It was dark blue, with red trim. The skirt had a sort of purple tinge to it.''_

'' _What else could he have stolen the dress for?''_

'' _Something other than cross dressing!''_

Arthur remembered. He had realized a long time ago that Merlin wasn't a cross dresser. It had become a sort of joke between them and Gwenivere. Though, whenever he was feeling particularly ticked off, Merlin would stroke Gwenivere's dresses hanging in her and Arthur's closet, or ask Arthur his opinion on different kinds of laces, just to annoy Arthur. Arthur had realized that, yet he had never found out (nor in all honesty did he give it much thought) what had happened to the dress he had saw Merlin take out of Morgana's wardrobe. And now he knew.

That was what had been so confusing about the girl. Arthur knew he had seen her before. In the corner of the castle courtyard, her face obscured by the shadows, right before she turned into that monster, was where. And now she was standing in front of him, wearing the dress Morgana had thought she misplaced.

Arthur remembered something else, too. He remembered striking at the beast, his sword slicing it's shoulder. A beast could survive that. But for a human, the blow would've been fatal.

It had been fatal.

''I killed you,'' Arthur whispered. ''I killed you.'' The girl nodded. It explained everything: why she had looked so frightened to see him in the lake, and why she had hesitated to save him. ''I'm sorry.''

The girl shrugged. ''Merlin buried me in the lake,'' she said. ''I managed to help him get Excalibur for you.'' She pointed to the sword. ''And, besides, my curse is gone now— I can have a life!''

She smiled at Arthur. What she said was true. No curse meant she could live a regular Druid life if she chose. But what bothered Arthur was that it was his fault she had died in the first place. And in death, she had saved his life not just by dragging him out of the lake, but by giving him his sword, which without he would've died many times over. He was indebted to this girl just like he was indebted to Merlin, and he didn't know how he'd ever repay either of them.

They stared at each other. Murderer to victim. Arthur wanted something to be said. He longed to make it up to her, to fix his wrong. He didn't deserve forgiveness— he didn't want it. You don't forgive the person who took your life: he certainly wouldn't have forgiven Mordred if it had been him standing here. Understood, yes. Forgiven, no. He was not capable of that and didn't expect anyone else to be either.

But the girl had no intention of saying meaningless _'it's alright'_ or _'it's forgotten.'_ Instead, she stuck out her hand as Arthur had his when in the water and said, ''All's well that end's well.''

Arthur looked at her hand and at her face. He could remember it more clearly now, the fear for the people she was about to hurt back then in the courtyard. He clasped her hand. ''What if it's not the end?''

The girl smiled. ''Then we'll just have to wait and see,'' she cocked her head to the side. ''Does this mean I am welcome in Camelot?''

Arthur laughed. ''I think after the events these past few days, I will make it my duty to ensure that _everyone_ is welcome in Camelot.''

 **Me: Hope you enjoyed! If you like it, and want to see more, please leave a review!**

 **Happy Writing!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Me: next chapter! Thanks to all who reviewed- it means so much!**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I used to own a heart, but the show belonging to BBC stole it. The name of the show is _Merlin._**

 _~Pokemon67 sucks at finding grammatical errors. You have been warned~_

They walked for a few more hours before making camp. Freya (she had finally told him her name) was about to collapse with exhaustion and as they were near more populated territory, Arthur decided that a watch would be best. So he stood guard while Freya slept.

Even though she knew she wasn't going to turn, Freya seemed afraid to fall asleep. So Arthur caught her up on what had been happening in Camelot. He told her about the times Morgana had usurped the throne. He told her about the founding of the Round Table. He told her about Gwen and how he had fallen in love with her and married her. He told her about training sessions, how Leon had to constantly remind them what they were supposed to be doing, how Lanelot had given each session his all, how Elyan used to laugh at all the jokes Gwaine cracked, how Mordred could never understand why they didn't wear less armor to move around faster, and how Percival would always win the sparing. He told her about the times before Morgana had left. How she once had Gwen hide his boots every couple of weeks. How they all went to save Ealdor. How he had met Merlin and how they had fought in the street. Listening to all the stories, all the tragedy and happiness that came from Arthur's life, Freya eventually fell asleep.

Arthur watched her. He supposed that is was the first time since she had been cursed that she slept without fear. He sighed and watched the dark woods. Telling Freya the stories made him feel empty and anxious— he wanted to get home so badly. To see everyone, to make new memories with them. And to repair the damage this war had left on them all.

….

Freya got up during the night to switch places with Arthur so he could get some sleep too. Arthur supposed that going how many years with such little sleep was a hard habit to break, and that Freya was going to have to ease herself into this novel idea of sleeping though the night.

Arthur slept only a little, and they were away from their camp just as the sun was rising. They ate some roots Freya had recognized as they walked to their destination.

They walked all day. Arthur asked about Freya's life, and she told him a little. She told him of her home, perfect and shiny by a beautiful lake. She seemed uncomfortable talking about it, and Arthur assumed that she had lost her home because of her curse. So he didn't push for details and they spent most of the trek in silence.

Arthur figured that he and Freya, whether or not she stayed in Camelot, would always have this wall. This unease that the other was wary of the other for being the murderer/victim. But that was alright by them. As they had both learned in the lake— what was important was that they were alive.

By walking all day, they reached Camelot by nightfall. Arthur couldn't hide the smirk on his face as he approached his castle walls. Freya seemed apprehensive. Of course she would be. This was the place she had meet her doom. The last time she had come through these gates had been in chains.

Arthur looked down at his clothes. ''My goodness, I can't _wait_ to see Merlin's face when I tell him I want these salvaged,'' he said. Mentioning the servant's name had the desired effect. Freya looked more determined to enter the gates.

They didn't run into any patrols. It made sense that they wouldn't— after all, they were busy cleaning up after a war. They didn't see any guards at the gate either, just a bustle of people. Refugees scrambling in and out of the city to get home now that the fighting was over. Arthur supposed the guards were in the crowd somewhere, tying to keep order. But standing in the way of families eager to get home was a futile attempt. Arthur would have to figure out a way to make things run a little more smoothly when he got home.

 _Home._ He was here, in Camelot. The castle was not ten minutes from him.

They slipped through the gate without anyone noticing— no one cared about a few more dirty looking people. It wasn't until they got nearer to the upper town that Arthur noticed people stopping to stare.

Children were playing by their front doors to avoid the bustle of people. They stopped playing with their dolls and cards to stare at the dirty man that reminded them of their king. It wasn't until they passed into the upper town that a teenage girl with red haired shouted, ''It's King Arthur!''

Suddenly there was whispering everywhere as adults turned to stare at the person who claimed to see their dead king. Then they'd spot him and gasp and ask each other if they were all seeing the same ghost.

Arthur didn't pay any attention to them— there was only one person he wanted to address at the moment and he wouldn't speak to anyone until he did.

News traveled fast in Camelot, especially if the dead were taking a walk up along Main Street. By the time Arthur reached the castle, people were already gathered in the courtyard, staring at him and Freya.

Arthur was prepared to walk past them without a glance, when the castle doors opened and a group of bewildered looking people came down the steps to see the spectacle.

Gwen was at the front.

 _Gwenivere._ ''Gwenivere!''

Gwen stopped in her tracks to stare. She looked tired, and more weary then curious as the other people were. Her face studied his, and he could see her trying to understand, trying to rationalize how Arthur could be standing here when Merlin had come back declaring him dead.

 _Hadn't Merlin come back?_

As if summoned by Arthur's thought of him, Gaius and Merlin struggled to get to the front of the crowd on the steps. They too stopped and stared. It seemed everyone in that square was waiting for the another person to break the silence.

Arthur kept his eyes on Gwenivere. Oh God, she was beautiful. Slowly, she took a step down when Leon grabbed her arm.

She, Leon, and Merlin had some fierce match of whispering before Gwen pulled her arm away and descended down the steps. Leon discreetly put his hand on his sword, prepared if the need arose to defend Camelot's ruler.

The sound of Gwen's heels clicking on the stone seemed deafening in the otherwise silent square. Arthur watched her as she approached him. The way she walked with her head held high, not in arrogance, as one might expect of a queen, but in confidence. She wasn't given the queen ship by right of birth, she earned it. The people wanted her here and she would stay to serve.

Oh, how he loved her.

She finally reached him. They stood face to face and the rest of the square might of well not have existed for the attention Arthur was paying to it. He was in a different world, staring into the deep brown of Gwen's eyes. Brown eyes that were as warm as the fires weary travelers gathered around when she was happy. Brown eyes that were like the jagged rocks travelers feared they would crash their ships into when she was angry.

Those eyes had never looked so angry before.

If you hurt her friends, family, anyone she cared about, you would see Gwen's glare and it would haunt you. To make a kind and caring person like Gwen angry, you had to have really messed up. So to see that look directed at him right now cut into Arthur sharper than any wound.

''I have had several travelers come to my doors these past few weeks,'' Gwen began. Her voice was calm— like a knife being sharpened before it was used to stab. ''So many, telling tale tales about how they had 'seen Arthur Pendragon rise from the dead!' and 'his ghost spoke to me!'. These visits are on top of Camelot trying to rectify all the damage that has been done by the recent war, and stave off impending wars with kingdoms who view us as particularly weak at the moment. So,'' She lowered her voice and leaned in closer. ''You will either admit right now that you are an imposter using an enchantment making a mockery of my dead husband, or you will prove that you are really Arthur. Do one or the other in ten seconds or I will _cut you down where you stand.''_

Arthur realized the gravity of the situation of the kingdom. Freya had been wrong: it had been a few _weeks,_ not days. Camelot was having trouble bouncing back from the damage of the war, and other kingdoms were thinking that this was their golden opportunity to finally conquer Camelot and add it to their wealth. Of course, this was why Gwen was the angriest he had ever seen her— her entire world was being threatened. Everyone and everything she cared about, every man, woman, and child in Camelot, was in danger. And now here was what she believed to be a stranger, mocking her husband— the man she loved the most, pledged her life to— by wearing his face, setting the kingdom she was desperately trying to keep together in a frenzy.

If their roles had been reversed, he would have already lashed out.

But he needed to convince her it was him. He needed to come back and help her.

''Convince you?'' He said in his old, arrogant way. ''Gladly, I'll convince you, Queen Gwenivere.'' Gwen's eyes flashed at the tone. He could see her mentally counting down the seconds she was granting him to live. '' _With all my heart_.''

Arthur could hear Merlin gasp on the steps— he had been the only one besides Mordred to hear him say those words to get the possessed Gwenivere to enter the water. There was still silence in the square, but Arthur was sure it had been longer than ten seconds.

Gwen's eyes were still hard. They were filling with tears. ''Are you really real-'' she was cut off as Arthur kissed her.

If he had died again after that kiss, Arthur wouldn't have cared. To come back for just one more word, one more kiss would've been worth it. But what was a great part of that kiss was that it wasn't his and Gwen's last one: there would be more. Oh, yes. He was going to make sure there were many more.

Gwen pulled away and wrapped her arms around his neck. Arthur hugged her and placed his dirt covered hand in her soft, black curls that she had hanging down her back. ''I'm sorry,'' he whispered in her ear. ''I love you and I'm so sorry.''

''I don't care,'' she whispered back. ''Never go away again. Never.''

''Never,'' he agreed. And he meant it. If nobles wanted to see him they could come here; otherwise, he and Gwen would hop on a horse together and go. Never would he be apart from her again.

He pulled away and looked at her face. Her eyes were soft again, the water in them making them look like the rocks that showed travelers they were not in danger, but home.

Gwen, holding his hand, turned back to face the crowd, who were still watching with bated breath. ''Long live the King!'' She shouted.

The crowd were silent. Then the knights got on their knees. ''Long live the King!'' Leon shouted back.

The entire square took up the chant. ''Long live the King!''

Gwen turned back to him. Arthur couldn't stop staring at her. She was perfect. She smiled at him. ''By the way,'' she leaned up and whispered in his ear so he could hear over the noise. ''I love you too.''

…...

It was a busy evening. A meal was prepared for the king, and he insisted on being brought up to date on everything that had happened.

So he ate and Gwen, sitting next to him, filled him in. Many men had been lost in the war, leaving the army numbers severely reduced. Arthur was horrified to hear that Gwaine was included in those numbers. Another good person struck down because of the ban of magic.

The neighboring kingdoms were preparing for war. It was mostly the kingdom of the departed Cenred, which was causing the most trouble. The kingdom had fallen to Cenred's young son, whose advisors were ruling 'in his stead'. They wanted to conquer Camelot. The other kingdoms didn't want war, but if Camelot was going to be taken, they wanted it to fall into their hands, not in the fickle hands of the young ruler's advisors. Along with that, Gwenivere had removed the ban of magic. She had removed it in such fury and hast that many were left speechless at the action.

''It was rash of me,'' she admitted. ''But it needed to be done and I just couldn't—'' she faltered. Arthur understood. He knew now that, in light of recent events, magic needed to be accepted, not feared. Gwen had lost so much to the fear of magic— her best friend, father, brother, and her husband. Arthur was glad that she had gone ahead and done the deed.

''It's alright,'' he assured her. ''We'll figure it out.'' And they would. Though all these things weighed on his mind, Arthur wasn't worried. These problems could be solved. Together, he and Gwen would solve them.

Merlin sat across from Gwen, Leon next to him. Gwen had also told him of Merlin's promotion to Court Magician (Arthur's reply of ''I'm gone for two seconds and you find a new job'' had sent Merlin into laughter and hugging of Arthur). ''I think I know how to settle the whole post-ban-removal fear,'' he said. ''The real problem is keeping Prince Crispin's adviser's away.''

Arthur nodded. ''If the other kingdoms really don't want war, then I'm sure we can find some way of making an alliance of sorts.''

''We tried, my lord,'' Percival spoke up from next to Gwen. ''But they feel Camelot has nothing to offer them.''

''Then we appeal to people as friends.'' Images of Mithian and Elena went though Arthur's mind. If anyone would help Camelot, they would.

They ended their meeting a few minutes later, Arthur claiming he needed to rest. While that was true on some points, what he really wanted was to make sure Gwenivere rested.

She looked exhausted. These issues had been weighting heavily on her and as she suddenly found herself as Camelot's sole ruler, she had had to face it alone. She needed rest, as Arthur was certain that whatever little she had gotten had not been peaceful.

Leon and Percival filed out of the room. They gave Arthur one last look on the way out, as if they expected him to disappear the second they turned their backs. When they left, Merlin too made ready to leave.

''So, does this mean I'll have to dress myself?'' Arthur whined as he watched his former manservant leave the room.

Merlin let that grin of his spread across his face. ''It would be an honor, sire,'' he mockingly, emphasizing the word _honor—_ another one of their inside jokes.

Soon Arthur and Gwenivere were alone, Merlin having gone back to his chambers. They laid there in the dark, Gwen on his chest, her hand on his heart to assure herself it was still beating. ''I love you.''

Arthur pulled the covers around her, kissing her forehead. ''I love you too,'' he whispered. ''Sleep.''

It wasn't long before Gwen's breathing evened out. Arthur leaned against the headboard, thanking the gods for this moment.

He let his thoughts wander. There was one thing that hadn't been rectified today, and he didn't know what to do about it.

Freya had vanished. In the square, as Gwen lead him to the castle, he had turned to her and realized she was gone. She had been with him in the lower town. Had he lost her in the upper town? Had she simply blended into the crowd?

The worst part about it is that he didn't know if he should say anything to Merlin. Rumors would no doubt start to circulate about the girl that was following Arthur as he made his way home. What if Merlin heard them? What if he asked Arthur about them?

Part of Arthur felt the urge to sneak out and look for Freya. But he couldn't bring himself to leave Gwen's side, nor give her a heart attack should she wake up and find him gone. No, he'd have to trust that Freya knew what she was doing and keep an ear out for her tomorrow. Maybe she was just waiting, looking for an opportunity to approach Merlin in private.

 **Me: Hope you enjoyed! The next chapter will be up soon! Please, tell me what you think in a review- they make me so happy!**

 **Happy Writing!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Me: This is Merlin's POV of the last chapter. It's a little short, and I'm not sure if I did a good job on his and Arthur's reunion. Hopefully it's good….**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing— sold my soul to BBC's** _ **Merlin**_ **a while ago now.**

 _~Pokemon67 is sorry if you spot any grammar mistakes. Here is a shovel to beat them with if they attack you, and a notebook to write them down so you can inform her of them. Thank you, stay safe!~_

Merlin was tired.

The past few weeks of trying desperately to hold all of Camelot together had been stressful to say the least. His lot was nothing compared to Gwen's, however.

Gwen. Oh, dear Gwen. Merlin shook his head as he tried to forget her face as the hope faded from it when he told her the news.

 _Dead. Arthur is dead._

He failed. He had failed so bad.

Merlin pushed his regret and remorse aside— he could grieve later. Gwen needed his help right now and damnit, he was going to do his best. No, more than his best. His best got people killed.

Later. Later, he would grieve. Not now.

Merlin stared at the maps in front of him. There was so much chaos. Right now, Gwen was in her chamber's looking over casualties. Merlin was going over routes, trying to figure out the best one so they could send guards to escort the refugees in the city safely home.

Merlin sighed and rubbed his eyes. They had to send a guard with the people because of the threat of war with the other kingdoms.

' _Arthur will return when Albion needs him most,'_ Killgarrah had said. _Well, now would be really good, Arthur…_

Merlin tried to refocus on his work, but kept getting distracted. It was all that chatter…

Merlin got up from his seat and was startled when he looked out the window to see a crowd of people gathering in the square. _What on earth is going on?_

Merlin ran through the castle, bumping into Gaius. ''Did you see…?'' Gaius began. Merlin nodded, cutting his mentor off. They continued on their way, eager to see what the commotion was about.

They got to the door and Merlin passed Gaius to get down the steps to where Gwen was. His rapid pace slowed as he tried to process what he was seeing.

Two people were in the center of the square; seemingly, they were the cause of the sudden gathering. One was a dirty man, with mud in his hair and on his face and clothes. A woman was a few feet behind him. She was filthy as well, her blue dress's hem caked with mud. The man had a placid expression on his face and was staring intently at Gwen.

Merlin's mind caught up with his eyes as he saw Gwen looked toward him. Her face was a mixture of emotions, and her face was asking the same question he was: _Is this real?_

Arthur. The man in the square was Arthur. But he couldn't be; Arthur was dead.

Gwen made forward to approach the man, but Leon caught her arm. ''My lady. you can't—''

''I have to.''

''No. Let me—''

''Let her go, Leon,'' Merlin broke in. He kept shifting his eyes back to Arthur. _No, not Arthur. Arthur is dead…_

''Merlin,'' Gwen's voice broke in. ''Is— I mean, is it a spell of some kind?''

Merlin glanced back once again. ''I defiantly sense magic at work,'' he replied. ''But nothing active. Almost like a— a residue of sorts.''

Gwen nodded. And then she proceeded down the steps.

Merlin watched from next to Leon as Gwen spoke with the man. He was so confused. And angry. Memories of Lancelot swarm in his head. _How dare someone do this again…_

 _But what if it's real?_

Merlin bit his cheek and stood up straighter: he was not going to let his hopes get up. Arthur was dead. Dead. _Oh, please don't be dead…_

Merlin let his gaze wander from Gwen and the man to the flash of blue that was making it's way back into the crowd.

For a split second, Merlin caught the woman's eyes. And if his heart was already pounding from the idea of Arthur standing here, in the square, then his heart was near to bursting out of his chest as he recognized that fearful gaze that he caught.

 _Freya._

Freya and Arthur. Alive. Both of them. Here. In the square. It couldn't be. It was a trick.

''— _With all my heart.''_

Merlin let out a strangled gasp— both from the realization of Freya and of the words the man spoke. No one besides himself, Gwen, Mordred, and Arthur could have known those words. Those words that were a sacred promise between Gwen and Arthur. No one could have taught a puppet those words like Morgana had taught Lancelot. It had to be real.

 _Arthur was alive._

 _Freya was alive._

 _They were alive and_ here.

''Long live the king!'' Gwen shouted to the crowd.

The knights and then the crowd took up the chant, but Merlin could barely breath, let alone cheer along. _Arthur and Freya. Alive. Safe. I didn't fail…_

Gwen lead Arthur up into the castle among the cheering citizens. They paused as they reached Merlin. Arthur grinned. ''Hello, Merlin. Hope my things are in order?''

Merlin grabbed Arthur and hugged him. ''Prat.''

''Dollop head.''

''Idiot.''

''Sorry.''

 _Not your fault,_ Merlin wanted to reply, but the words got caught in his throat. _Not your fault and it will_ never _happen again._

They all entered the palace, but Merlin paused in the doorway. He couldn't see Freya, but with his powers so grown since that last time he saw her, he could sense her. She was here, in the city.

And he was going to find her.

With a grin on his face, Merlin practically skipped into the castle. He watched the backs of Arthur and Gwen, side by side, go up the hall. _He's safe. He's safe._ Merlin took his spot to Arthur's right, trailing along a few steps behind him. Where he belonged to advise and protect his king.

And damnit, he was not going to fail again this time.

 **Me: I hope you enjoyed. Please tell me what you think— I'm not happy with this chapter but I don't know what I could do to improve it so….**

 **Happy Writing!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Me: Shorter than the other chapters, but I wanted Freya's and Merlin's reunion to be separate. Don't worry, one more chapter after this. Hope you like it!**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but the tears I shed while watching the show, _Merlin._**

 _~Pokemon67 is bad at hunting down those pesky grammar mistakes. But rest assured, when she posts this, afterwards she will see 10 things that she should've changed~_

Freya couldn't stop her heart from pounding.

While the sensation of being _not dead_ was amazing, the feeling that her heart wanted out of her chest was _not_ amazing. It was quite the opposite, in fact.

She didn't know what to do. During Arthur's reunion, she had met Merlin's eyes, and his gasp was directed at her, not Arthur. Or maybe it was directed at both of them. Or maybe it wasn't a gasp of shock at all and simply a gasp of breath from running all the way through the castle to see the commotion. Either way, she had chickened out and ran.

She found herself in the only other place she knew in Camelot— the caverns Merlin had hidden her in.

Freya carefully lit an old torch on the wall. Since coming back, and realizing her curse was gone, she was determined to build up her confidence in her magic again. She had all but stopped using it completely when she realized her curse, doing her best to draw as little attention to herself upon leaving the Druids. But now— with nothing to worry about— she could practice it without fear.

Well, except the residing fear she placed on herself. But she'd find a way to deal with that, one way or another.

She crouched in a corner, staring at the shadows and trying to think of a plan. Clearly she was to much of a coward to face Merlin. For goodness sake, how could she just walk back into his life? She wasn't a poor, hunted, pathetic girl anymore (well, by her current state of dirtiness, and the fact that she had no home or plan, Freya supposed pathetic and poor could still be used to describe her, but her point still stood).

Merlin had a life. Her life was not in danger anymore. She had nothing to offer. She would take more than she would give. He had no reason to want her, to desire to be with her. It was selfish of her to even consider going to him, especially in light of _she nearly left Arthur to die in that lake_. Even if she went to say thanks, it would be wrong. Freya knew Merlin: he'd want to help her, feel _obligated_ to help her and she couldn't do that to him. She had another chance at life and she couldn't start it off by ruining yet _another_ person's life.

Freya sighed. So, it was decided: _I'll leave without saying anything. That's best for both of us._

 _Excuse me, don't I get a say?_

Freya jumped at the voice. _Merlin?_

 _Yeah, I've learned a few tricks!_ Freya could feel the sensation of his laugh in her mind. It had been so long since someone had communicated in the mind way, even prior to her death. She hadn't considered Merlin might check— she had forgotten to shield her thoughts. She'd have to remember how to do that.

 _I can give you a refresher, if you like._

 _Stop that!_ Freya replied.

 _Why? It's making you smile._ It was true, Freya was smiling. Merlin was talking to her. Merlin, who tried everything to save her when no one else had. Merlin, whose smile had had her entranced the moment she first saw it.

 _Is it really that nice? Arthur always said it's a bit goofy._

Freya laughed, tears rising in her eyes.

 _Why are you crying?_

 _Because you're an idiot._

 _That's funny, Arthur used to say that, too. I think he cried about it once or twice as well._

 _I have nothing to offer you, Merlin. I would be a burden and a hindrance._

 _Never._

 _Merlin—_

 _Listen, Freya. I love you. Even now, after all this time, I love you. I want to be with you. Those days, sitting by the lake, I heard you. As for being a burden and a hinderance, you could help us fix Camelot. Gwen made me Court Magician— totally made up the job on the spot, but still— because she knows nothing about magic. No one does. The only things I know is what I've read in that one book Gaius gave me, and what he and Kilgarrah have told me. I know so little about the Druids, and the different kinds of magic they practice. You could help us with that._

Freya didn't know how to respond. She was absolutely floored. She could belong. Here, in Camelot, with Merlin. _You love me?_

''Yes,'' Merlin's voice came from in front of her, not in her mind. Freya looked at him as he entered the cavern, a small flame in his hand. ''I love you.''

Freya stood up. ''I- I don't think I'd be very good at it.''

Merlin extinguished the flame. He walked closer. He looked different: older and tired. There was a weight in his eyes that hadn't been there before. ''You'd learn,'' he whispered. ''Being in the court: It's not as hard as nobles make it out to be—''

''I mean, at loving,'' Freya said. ''Though the court thing is another good point.'' Merlin smirked. Oh, that was unfair. How did one say no to that face? ''I don't know how to care for people, Merlin. My own family I couldn't save. How-''

Merlin gently took her face in his hands and leaned his forehead against her's. ''Yes, you do,'' he whispered. ''Caring for people is what you did when you didn't wait for me to come back. Caring for people is what you did when you gave me Excalibur to give to Arthur, so he could fight. Caring for people is what you did when you pulled Arthur out of that lake. Caring for people is what you are doing right now, by making excuses for why you can't stay— because you think you'll be doing more harm than good. But you won't, Freya. You won't. I promise.''

Freya closed her eyes, letting a tear run down her cheek. She didn't believe that those things she did were caring. Letting Merlin go was mostly so that his death wouldn't rest on her soul. Retrieving Excalibur was to repay Merlin. She nearly hadn't pulled Arthur out, and her excuses were because she was scared. She wasn't good at caring. But she wanted to try. Oh, she so wanted to. ''Promise?''

''On a couple cows, fields, and a lake.''

Freya laughed and gave in to the urge to kiss him.

They stood there in the shadows, the light flicking over them. The sensation of feeling another human being in your arms, safe and happy, was better than anything else Freya had experienced, in this life or the past. To know that one was _wanted_ was absolutely amazing.

 **Me: I hope this was okay! I'll post the last chapter soon. If you can, please review and tell me what you like/hate about this story- I love feedback!**

 **Happy Writing!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Me: last chapter that ties it all together. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Merlin- I could never write such a heartbreaking show.**

 _~Pokemon67 checked and said there were no grammar mistakes. If you spot one, you may laugh and mock at her exspence- she deserves it for being so careless~_

Gwen didn't know how they did it. But they did. Somehow, Camelot was still in one piece and safe.

Arthur had called on Mithian and Elena. They both had been eager to help in anyway they could (''I'll convince father!'' Elena said, right before tripping over the threshold. Even without the creature inside her that Merlin had told her about, she was still terribly clumsy).

As for the people being wary of magic, Merlin was cooking up something that he seemed nervous and excited about all at once, and he refused to show it to anyone until he was ready. He spent most of his time furiously writing in his room, working on this project and working on a magic book and a list of spells with Freya.

 _Freya._ The Lady of the Lake, Gwen had nicknamed her to herself long ago. She couldn't believe when Arthur had said that she had come back along with him, saving him.

Merlin was so happy. Watching him and Freya was beautiful. They weren't like some of the young couple's in town— all starry eyed at each other. Their love was quiet, and growing each day.

They always were near each other, their shoulders brushing or their hands clasped together. Sometimes, if he wasn't right next to her, Merlin would turn around suddenly to look at her, afraid that she would vanish. And when Merlin talked to Freya, Gwen noticed how attentive Freya was. How she cocked her head to the side, hanging on his every word and studying his face, memorizing every detail. Those two spent their time together: they knew from the past that it could end suddenly and they were making the most of every day they had right now to get to know each other.

Gwen understood. She felt the same about Arthur.

The experience she went through, thinking him dead and struggling to get though without him, to accept his death, had been so hard. Having him back was a miracle she hadn't let herself pray for, forcing herself to carry on like he would for Camelot.

She and him were rarely apart. The only times they were really apart was like now, when he was training the new recruits and she was busy attending to the everyday needs of the castle.

Gwen walked through the castle halls. The past few days had been more peaceful then they had in what felt like forever, and she was grateful. They had fallen back into a routine, giving her some down time that she had put to good use.

Freya, her face red from embarrassment at the fallen state of it, wasn't sure what to do with the dress. She had given it to Merlin, knowing that he had taken it from a friend and thought that maybe she could replace it for her. Merlin had had to explain the awful truth— that the dress had been Morgana's, and that she didn't need it replaced.

Merlin brought the dress to Gwen, unsure of what to do with it. ''It doesn't seem right,'' he said awkwardly. ''To just, throw it away.''

Gwen nodded. ''You're quite right,'' she said, running her hand over the frayed sleeves. ''I'll think of something.''

''Is there anything I could do to help?'' Freya asked. The poor girl seemed to be working herself up into a state about the old dress.

''No, Freya,'' Gwen replied kindly. ''I was her maid: it's my job.''

So Gwen spent the next few day's during her free time in the kitchens, washing the dress, and then mending it. The poor servants got themselves into a sate, asking their queen if she really didn't want them to take care of it? The few servants that Gwen knew from her time as a maid joked with her that if she really missed her work that much, she could aways clean the fireplaces again if she wanted.

Gwen shook her head at the concerned servants, and explained to the joking one's that this was Morgana's dress, and she needed to fix it herself. That shut them up. They respectfully kept their distance, leaving Gwen to her self appointed task.

First Gwen carefully washed the dress. Then she patched the holes in the skirt with as similar a purple cloth she could find, and she replaced the lacy sleeves with new lace. Then she painstakingly sewed on a new red trim, as the old one had come completely undone.

It had been awhile since she had sewn such careful work. All her clothes now came from professional tailors. She had forgotten the satisfaction of seeing your handiwork in an article of clothing, and also the pain in one's back, hands, and eyes from sewing over a long period of time.

Today she was done, and she walked through the castle, holding the dress carefully on a hanger. It wasn't as good as new, and she probably couldn't have worn it to a feast anymore, but Morgana could've worn it out riding or hunting.

Gwen thought about that day so long ago, when Morgana had asked her if she had seen it. She thought about her several days of working on it.

'' _Since it had such an impact on your life, perhaps we should hold a ceremony for it?''_

 _Morgana picked up an apple and held it threateningly above her head. ''I will throw this at you.''_

She smiled at the memory, stroking the dress. She was about to turn the corner, but paused at the hallway.

 _The girls kept a straight face as they walked away. But as soon as they were out of Arthur's sight, they descended into giggles and ran around the corner._

 _As planned, Merlin was already there, leaning on his knees to keep from falling over in his laughter. ''Did you see his face?'' he choked out._

In her mind's eye, Gwen could picture the scene. Her, Merlin, and Morgana, laughing at Arthur's shocked expression.

 _Morgana put her hand on Merlin's shoulder. '' 'Thank you, Arthur, for finding it for me!' '' She quoted Merlin. ''Oh, that was perfect, just perfect…''_

 _We had been friends,_ Gwen reassured herself. _Once. It hadn't all been a lie. Once, we were truly friends._

Gwen continued on her way to her destination, pushing the door open when she got there.

Morgana's room was understood by everyone in the castle not to be messed with. The old servants instructed the new that all you were to do in there was keep the surfaces clean so dust would not collet, that was all. No messing around with her stuff.

Gwen walked in slowly. There was the table that was the setting for many of Arthur's and Morgana's verbal sparing matches. There was the stool in the corner than she would sit in and work, smiling at their sarcasm. There was the basket that Morgana would throw her unfinished mending in, insisting that it could wait while Gwen went home and slept.

'' _Don't worry. If it's really good, I'll read it a story and tuck it in. Now go. Home. To. Bed.''_

Gwen smiled a sad smile and carefully walked over to the wardrobe. The room had this air of stillness to it, as if it was still in the past and waiting for Morgana to sweep in and collect her cloak for her daily ride.

Gwen opened the wardrobe. Speaking of riding, there were all Morgana's favorite cloaks, all lined up, unused. On the bottom, was a forgotten pair of Arthur's boots that Gwen had hidden and Morgana had never remembered to tell her to sneak back.

Or maybe she just never got the chance.

Gwen placed the dress in the wardrobe, the click of the hanger on the pole echoing from the wardrobe, sounding so familiar and strange all at once. It used to be every day she heard that sound while helping Morgana pick out her outfit. Morgana's wardrobe was different form the other's in the castle, because the carpenter who built it had not only put the back on wrong, but had also forgotten the proper pieces to screw in the pole, so had substituted with these pieces of metal that kept the pole in place, but echoed though the pole, making the hangers clicking against it have a funny sound.

It was such a stupid detail to remember, yet Gwen smiled at it.

She brushed the front of the dress down smoothy, and then closed the wardrobe, clicking it shut. ''I found it, Morgana,'' she whispered to the silent, still air of the bedroom. ''I found it.''

There was a knock at the door. Arthur came in hesitantly. He glance about the room, a look of unease on his face. ''Finished the dress?'' He asked, his voice not much above a whisper.

Gwen bit her lip and nodded. Arthur's expression was soft, and he came over and took her hand. ''Come on— Merlin's finished his project and I think you're really going to like it.''

Gwen smiled and followed Arthur to the door, letting go of his hand just long enough to stare one last time into her mistress' room. Again, in her mind's eyes, she could see her helping her prepare for bed.

She closed her eyes and shut the door, leaving herself and Morgana in the past. Happy, safe, and pleased with each other. She then took her husband's hand, and they went off to see what their Court Magician had come up with.

 **Me: Well, that's it! I want to thank everyone who reviewed, favored, and followed me and this story! It really means so much!**

 **And again, special thanks to _kyuzi4869_ for requesting a sequel, and unintentionally sparking my imagination. **

**If any of you are intrested in Merlin's idea, I plan on writing a separate story about it, titled _The Story of Morgana Goloris Pendragon._ Depending on when my doc manager is working again, I will publish it soon.**

 **So, this is the end. Wow, I haven't finished a multi chapter fic since an old Fire Emblem one I published years ago (and since delated. Really, it was terrible. I am much better at writing now).**

 **Thanks again!**

 **Happy Writing!**


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